The Story Unfolds
by Pokercheat
Summary: Pokercheat has made his way out of Dreanor and is now in the employ of Thrall. Please Review. Rated M for language.
1. History

Hell. That is what war can be called. I have served as a peon in the wars of the Human and Orcs. It is fair enough that I fill you in on why.

I was a warrior of the Thunderlord Clan of the Blades Edge Mountains. The war that consumed our race forced the Thunderlords and the Shadowmoon clans to rip themselves apart trying to kill one another, oftentimes that is indeed not an exaggeration. To tell the truth of it, I was forced into submition by Ner'zul himself. Terron Gorefiend had indeed done his work, for the shady dealings of the Death Knights paid there toll upon my clan. The Mok'nathol were of course no help. Arrogent bastards that they are, they left us to our fate. I swore vengeance.

As a peon for the Shadowmoon Clan, I learned the ways of Shamanism and the demonic ways of the Warlock through mere observation. Observation is a good way to go about things until you try to mimic what you see. It wasn't a total loss. Through the experimentation of sorcery, I found eternal youth. It was no secret that warlocks can indeed live forever if they choose.

During a raid by the ogres come for food, by that I mean orc flesh, I was forced to wield the only weapon that I had at my desposal to stay alive. My Pickaxe. I learned the ways of the warrior through combat. I was enthralled so much that I rose up against my masters and finally managed to escape. I waited and watched, eating boars and bears. When the portals were opened, I made my way through and commenced doing what I could do to survive: Kill the Humans.

Doomhammer came across me one day while foraging and he took me prisoner. I was forced to mine gold, cut lumber, and build his buildings. Confidence was his downfall. After Gul'dan sought out the tomb of Sargeras, I made my escape yet again while the majority of the army was away.

I wandered for a decade or so, fighting for survival and hoping one day a war chief would arise to treat me fairly. Then came Go'el. The humans know him as Thrall, Son of Durotan. I know him as brother.

I was given a chance and was sent to the Valley of Trials. But that is another story for another day.


	2. Freedom is Key

I awaken to do my daily duties of cleaning the wolf pens and tend the pigs. Today is especially good. Good warm weather. Nice breeze. I tell you one thing. Better than when the Scourge fought its way across the landscape, killing everything in sight.

I go to the mailbox as usual. Today I have a letter. Unusual. I havent gotten a letter in ages.

Dear Pokercheat,

Throm'kar friend. It has come to my recent attention of your years in the horde. You have served faithfully. Your freedom is at hand. Report to the Valley of Trials. Today, you become a warrior of the Horde.

Thrall, Son of Durotan

About time I would say. I served long enough. Time to earn my keep.

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Next chapter begins his adventures.


	3. The Valley of Trials

I arrived at the Valley of Trials. Dust blew through my beard as I set forth to reclaim my birthright. All I had ever dreamed of was about to be realized. A chance to go back to Dreanor. A chance to see my brothers in arms once again. But first, pass these stupid tests and become a warrior once again. After all, I am still a little rusty after all those years doing peon work.

Misserable peons. All they do in there spare time is sit around complaining about the tasks set forth by the higher ups. I tire of the incessant ranting about better wages. I need no wages. I was put to work everyday knowing that what I did helped the base of operations that I was stationed at defend the grand army of the Horde from possible invasion.

I had some battle experience as a peon. I did fight from burrows, if you can indeed call that crap fighting. Hide away and throw spears. Bah!

I arrived to find that a few others were attending. Mainly trolls. Trolls that wish to become shaman to become closer to the thing that for so long they destroyed. Sure, I cut the trees, but their mystic Voodoo if you will destroyed their people faster than the scourge.

I was given an axe and set forth. I started working my way up from boars, to collecting Spiny Cactus Fruit, and finally going into the local cave to defeat the demons and there masters.

I stepped into the cave expecting an ambush as a warrior usually should, but it never came. I saw one felhound. After a few Heroic strikes and rends, he fell into the dust. A few imps were nothing. A troll in trouble.

I don't forget because of the decision I made. I let her die at the hands of her opponent. Regret is the only thing I got out of that encounter.

A few more felhounds and then a pickaxe I was supposed to be getting. Then I went a little back out and around through another passageway and defeated a warlock, taking his medallion for some task and then I took his head for my personal collection.

After handing in the pickaxe and the medallion, I ventured into Durotar once again.


End file.
